Unexpected Guest

Ok, this is how my evening is going....took a nice hot bath and got all relaxed....got out of bath in towel and almost stepped on a garter snake that Lazette was proudly herding in my direction. I didn't want her to hurt it (she was being most gentle with it), so I grabbed a washcloth (losing my towel in the meantime) and was standing in the hallway butt naked holding a snake! It was not my most attractive moment!

I threw on my robe while clutching the wriggling snake and let him go in the front yard. If he is smart, he will stay away from the back yard! My question is, how do I explain to Lazette that she is not allowed to have her pets inside?

Oh, and there will be no pictures to post!

Sometimes you just have to stop and visualize how ridiculous you look and have a good hearty laugh!
At least, I am not afraid of snakes!

A Christmas Mouse

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Just A Memory

This was our yard at the Elk River Apts. 1973-78

After reading a link sent to me by my cousin tonight, about a family in the outskirts of Russia (Siberia), I started to let my mind wander to days gone by. My cousin said he almost envied them their challenging yet simple existence.

I think that anyone who wants to feel satisfied with their lives, needs to spend some time without the creature comforts. I know that for a good deal of my life, I have lived in what most Americans would call remote areas.

 Although I have lived in what in America are called remote and isolated areas (Elk River, Idaho and the Adirondacks of Upstate NY), at least by car I was not so isolated as those in Siberia. Elk River was 20 miles of dirt road in from the nearest small town of Bovill, Idaho. It was 50 miles from medical and groceries. During the winter we went out for groceries once a month. I made my own bread with the kids every Sunday. Darrel hunted and our huge chest freezer was supplied with grouse, deer, elk, bear and fish that he had caught. The kids and I helped with the fishing.

Elk Reservoir was where we fished, which was a couple of miles from town. Everyone swam there, fished and frogged there and then we drank the water. There were tons of fruit trees and berries free for the picking and I made all my own jam, jellies and wine...not to mention apple pies and apple butter. I even tried my hand at tanning a deer hide and bear hide.

I really miss all the elderberry bushes because I made the best pancake syrup and wine from them! During blackberry season, we would go camping on the Lochsa River on the Idaho Montana border and pick tons of them. The bushes followed the river for a good 30 miles!

Oddly enough, I miss those days. I was young and every day was an adventure! I would take the boys hiking on the cemetery road and pick Thimble berries for jam or just hike it on a cold winter day with Sandor trudging along and Trevor in a back carrier. We lived there for 5 years. They were hard years but I really felt alive. Tiffany and Chris were conceived there.

We were always losing our power and had kerosene lamps, candles and our portable camp stove for backup. One winter, right before Christmas, we lost our power for a week. We all slept in our bedroom, which had a queen box spring and mattress on the floor and were warm and toasty with piles of covers and sleeping bags. That winter the snow got all the way up to the second floor of the apartments we were in. We had a bottom apartment and I had to shovel out the kitchen window and boy's bedroom window to have sunlight and a fire exit. We got so much snow in one night, I had to start the shoveling from inside with a dustpan. The first snow went into the sink until I could get a place to crawl out the window and stand. Darrel got a bear that winter and stood on the snow and hung the paws on the utility pole at the back of the apartments. Once the snow melted, it could not be reached, and the birds picked it clean for years! It was a good 25 ft off the ground or more.

Ah yes, the good old days when we moved a doublewide onto our property and the boys would invite their friends up for snail races. How fun is that! I would send the kids out to find their snails. The woods just beyond the house was full of land snails. I would slick down our clay soil in the back yard with a little water and then it was, "on your mark, get set, go!" After the race, snails would be returned to their original spots and refreshments would be served. To those with school aged kids, I became known as the Snail Lady!

Yes, I am satisfied with my life and its challenges, the adventures and every twist and turn because that is how I've become "ME".

Closing the Door

It has been the longest summer I can remember! After a fond farewell to my couch, I was on my way to Port Orchard to live with my oldest son, Sandor. I have begun life anew here, fixing up the Bachelor Pad into a home that suits both Sandor and me. At least, I hope he likes the changes. He told me the only things I could not change were his leather recliner and the projector style TV. Odd but the past two nights he has opted to stretch out on the recently added love seat! It makes me smile to think I did something right!

After Russ left, I spent several weeks in my very empty house in Deer Park. I finally decided to hire the neighbor's grandson to mow the lawn and I would make the 350-mile trek back for weed pulling every two weeks. It has proved to be a very costly summer! As life would have it, Russ once again became disillusioned with the East and some of his family and decided to return to the West.

I have always listened to an inner voice and followed its' whispers. I continued to pursue the sale of my house. I know I am supposed to be here in Port Orchard at this time in my life, so I have closed the door on my life in Deer Park. Russ found an apartment and is near the Spokane Airport where he hopes to be hired again this winter.

Next weekend, I will drive over to Deer Park to winterize the house. It has not sold, and the contract is up Oct. 31st. I will let my poor empty house suffer through the winter on its' own and hope for the best! In the Spring, I will again put it on the market and hope it sells. One couple viewed it 5 times and were totally in love with it, but they never made a valid offer. I think financing was a problem for them.

As to my frame of mind, I am reflective. When I think of the nomadic life I've led, I grow weary. I wonder at all the things I've done, the places I've lived and the choices I've made. Life has not been boring, but it is winding down. I am retired and no longer care about my public appearance. I am 63 and have lived through the decade of the banning of the bra...odd that I find that so appealing now!

Sweats with pockets for my cell phone, digital camera and Samsung Galaxy are my apparel of choice! And a bra only, when necessary, in public! Age must have some benefits, after all! I am amazed at all the driving I do, since I only got my license at age 48! A late bloomer but I am sure making up for it!

Life is good, even if I am on a fixed income until the house sells. I am probably the most broke I've been in a long time but looking back I've survived worse. There is so much to see. So many beaches, State Parks, little towns and shops to explore...thank goodness for my Nissan! My baby gets 32mpg in town and 42mpg on trips and she even doubles as my mini pickup with back seats that fold down. My baby has hauled everything from cement blocks, lumber, energy logs, deer feed to Christmas trees! 

I have given many of "My Things" away, to fit into Port Orchard. Most people let their children do that after they die. I have had to choose what is important to me. My room is decorated with things that remind me of who I've been. There are decorative plates from my job at Gwen's Gifts, a needlework my grandmother did and one I did, a plate of my great, great grandmother's, a photo beautifully framed of my best friend and I 57 years ago, wildlife plates of my mom's reminding me of what a large part nature has played in my life, an antique desk, a rocking chair, nostalgic kerosene lamps, birdhouses, handmade dolls, quilts, a print that reminds me of a very special cabin that was my refuge after my first husband died and one needlework that says:" Life's most beautiful things are not seen with the eyes but are felt with the heart" and a handmade sign that says: "Home is where you hang your heart!" Indeed, my home is always where I hang my heart.

Home is not about a specific building or place. It is being comfortable in your own skin! I am one of the lucky ones who has carried "Home" with me to a great many places!

Nana's Sledding House

                     

                                                         NANA'S SLEDDING HOUSE


                                                  I've always dreamed of a country home,
                                                  Where grandkids would come and sled;
                                                  And deer and turkeys were free to roam,
                                                  Such was the dream inside my head.

                                                  In a little town in Washington,
                                                  I found just the perfect place;
                                                  Now, grandkids come and have such fun,
                                                  On sleds, the wind upon their face.

                                                  They sled on cardboard and pizza pans,
                                                  Plastic sleds and cookie sheets;
                                                  With time for making snowmen,
                                                  Then back to racing, they compete.

                                                  Hot cocoa and a nice warm fire,
                                                  There's so much happy chatter;
                                                  And smiles of which I'll never tire,
                                                  All those things, that really matter.

                                                  It's "Nana's Sledding House", I'm told,
                                                  Full of Love, Good times and Laughter;
                                                  It warms my heart, as I grow old,
                                                  Sweet memories, forever after.

                                                                                                           Lynn 2008

A Little Thing Like A Couch

                                        A Little Thing Like A Couch

I haven't written since Nov. for good reason. My significant other, Russell, announced he was going to move back East to be closer to his family. Since I know how bad it feels to not be near family, I proceeded to set my priorities for my future. I knew I was going to have to sell my wonderful home. I am 63 and should not be living in the middle of nowhere by myself....well not totally alone; I have my cat, Marigold and Bertha....my 38 Special!

All through the winter and Spring, I've been doing necessary house repairs, the kind of things that never bothered me before. I began a campaign to eliminate all those prized possessions, I found I could live without and ran an unceasing flow of ads on Craig's list. I sold everything from an antique ironing board, Kawasaki ATV to an 8x8 shed(You Move)! My deadline to trim my sails, was May 1st.

Each day was carefully planned with packing, painting and selling. The end of April, I felt confident enough to list my almost vacant house with a realtor. This was the home I wished to be buried from. Having been a nomad my entire life, I had poured my heart and soul into this place.

I have not flinched or wavered in my resolve to sell and move in with my oldest son, who has never married. Before Russ left, I rented a Penske truck and we moved 95% of my remaining household items to my son's home, over 300 miles away in Port Orchard, WA. (I could never live in a big city).

Russ left for the East Coast May 2nd and although the furnishings here were sparse, I have managed to keep a positive outlook..... that is until yesterday. I told another one of my sons he could have my couch for his house, after Russ left. I had been sleeping on it for a month prior to Russ leaving as my bedroom furniture was already at my oldest son's.

There were 5 of us pushing and shoving this huge couch through my tiny kitchen, past the washer and dryer and using different angles to get the reluctant couch out the back door. There are even claw marks where it tried, to no avail to hold fast to the kitchen walls!

As I watched my couch drive off through the gate, the tears welled up in my eyes and flowed down my cheeks. I had managed to part with so much, my gingerbread collectibles that filled my kitchen had been packed with love and stored for my granddaughter, so much was gone. The curio, Russ gave me was sold, the riding lawnmower sold, walls vacant and lifeless...I had managed to hold up through all of it, except the stupid couch!

I know full well there will be another couch, other chairs and I still have all my stuff at my son's, but it was the letting go of a dream...my dream! It was the letting go of "Nana's Sledding Hill where grandkids came to have fun. The letting go of  times that were dear to me with the grandkids, the ceremonial tree burning after Christmas, feeding the deer and turkeys,  having banana splits in the gingerbread kitchen that was so cheerful, Thanksgivings in a house bulging at the seams with love, the farewell to having fireside marshmallow roasts on the deck. It was the letting go of the chipmunks, deer, turkeys and my quiet peace.

It was just a little couch, a stupid couch, clawing at the kitchen wall and wanting to stay!


                                                                                                        Lynn     5/14/2012

The First Time

The First Time

I held you in my arms tonight,

As an Oreo you ate;

All chocolate mess and sticky,

You didn’t care that it was late.

Mom and Dad were showing their new truck,

While I held you in my arms;

You held me tight and wanted kisses,

I was a captive of your charms.

You covered me in gooey chocolate,

And pressed your fingers to my shirt;

Then as you pointed…called me “Nana”;

With the widest grin, you little flirt!

Those first words of recognition,

Now, you’ve given me a name;

With naming me, you stole my heart,

I’ll never again be quite the same.

They didn’t tell me at your birth,

The joy in store, you see;

The first time you called me, “Nana”, 

                                           With Love meant for only me!

                                                                                      Nana Lynn 03-10-00